


The Disappearance of Izaya Orihara

by taruhi



Category: DRRR!!, Durarara!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taruhi/pseuds/taruhi
Summary: Izaya Orihara is an informant.Izaya Orihara is head over heels for humanity.But above all, Izaya Orihara is an arrogant man.And that is the catalyst of the disappearance of Izaya Orihara.





	1. Chapter 1

It was an unusually cold spring morning, and even as March drew to a close, the chill inhabiting the air showed no signs of fading. 

An informant by the name of Orihara stared out the half-open window of his apartment, and was immediately reminded of why he'd chosen to live in this building.

The view was spectacular. It overlooked one of the busiest streets in Shinjuku, bustling with businessmen on their phones, schoolchildren on their way to class. People decorated every corner of the plaza, cars slowly making their way down the crowded roads. Neon signs flashed at storefronts, advertising maid cafés and bookstores. Staring down at the tiny, insectlike people - it reminded him of the colour that Ikebukoro held. 

The manifestation of cunning smiled to himself, placing his hands in his lap and letting the cold wind kiss his face. He'd ask Namie to close the window when she arrived later that day. He couldn't quite get to it, in his wheelchair - and although that irked him somewhat, he knew he had brought it upon himself. After all, he could afford the therapy and surgery that would restore his ability to walk, but to Izaya, the loss of it was a fitting reminder of what Shizuo had done. Besides, Namie would even do things like go grocery shopping as long as he was paying her.

Clearing his train of thought, Izaya moved over to his desk, various laptops and monitors displaying text. 

On one, there was a chat with Shinichi Tsukumoya, the last message a question about the welfare of Shinra Kishitani. Izaya would never admit it, but he liked to know his only friend was doing well.

Flashing on another was a video - Mairu had sent him the entire Ruri Hijiribe concert she'd attended a few days ago, along with photos of herself and Kururi wearing red ribbons in their hair to match their beloved idol singer.

Giving a final amused glance at the pictures, the man turned away, trying to think of how next to waste his time. He'd normally be checking on clients - even without use of his legs, the info broker business thrived - but none had called him. Disappointing, really.

Orihara was just about to pick up a yellowing copy of  _No Longer Human_ , before hearing the door creak slightly and footsteps approach.

 _That doesn't sound like Namie,_  the informant realised, before he felt hands around his neck and the harsh sound of something heavy hitting his skull.

 

* * *

 

Namie Yagiri dropped her bag on the floor, taking off her shoes without much hurry and walking calmly over to her employer's desk.

 Mairu and Kururi's faces stared back at her, the screen slightly obscured by a drying layer of rust. The young Yagiri closed the laptop, pushing it away from the red stain on the tabletop.

A single cherry blossom petal fluttered through the open window, landing on a desk dripping with blood.

Yagiri stared at it for a moment, then turned and wordlessly pushed the window closed.

 _Strange. It's a little early for cherry blossoms,_ Namie mused _._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been, what, a month? I need to be more consistent.

 

Orihara Izaya awoke to the sound of church bells in his ears.He sat awake like that, blindfolded and slumped on the floor for several minutes, the Notre Dame-worthy ringing in his ears drowning out any rational thought process. His head practically buzzed with a dull ache, which he'd quickly attributed to the feeling of dry, congealed blood on the side of his face. A metallic fragrance still lingered in the air, stinging his nostrils and clinging to his every breath. Above all, however, the informant  _knew_ that this was a disaster. This was not at all like the Amphisbaena incident, when his beloved humans played perfectly into his hands. He'd had bodyguards and allies on his side. Everything that had transpired that day went exactly as planned. 

For one of the first times in his life, Izaya did not know how to react. He had absolutely no clue as to where he was - hell, this could be an apartment complex in  _Osaka_  for all he knew - and, considering the fact he couldn't feel a single one of his eight phones in his pocket, no means of contacting Namie (or anyone else, for that matter). His abductors had utterly raided the contents of his jacket - though at the very least, he hadn't been carrying anything more important than a knife he'd stabbed Shizuo. He'd meant to ask Yagiri to dispose of that.

Izaya decided to switch off this train of thought, and turn his attention to listening for any more noise, sounds to indicate the type of building he was in. Things like the rustle of bare feet against tatami or perhaps the tap of slippers against wood. 

Neither came.

However, this wasn't a lost cause. The silence meant that he was either the only person in the building or the walls had been soundproofed. If there were windows, he should've been able to hear wind, or traffic, and - assuming it was day - cicadas in the trees, maybe crickets if it was night. Adjusting his posture, he drummed his fingers against the floor, holding his breath to better hear the noise. The resulting, rhythmic tap sounded like wooden planks, and it was smooth to the touch. Varnished, maybe? Either way, it was probably wood. 

What else could he decipher without moving? Already weak from disuse and probably tied, simply walking around on his legs wasn't going to be useful. The way his wrists were bound gave him the impression that crawling wouldn't work, either - and he doubted he'd be able to with the pain thudding at the back of his eyes. Should he try to call out? How long had he been unconscious? Who, and why, would someone go out of their way to completely incapacitate him? His list of enemies was long, sure, but most of the people on that were suicidal teenagers and Heiwajima (his name had been written several times). However, the rest of that list was made up of yakuza, gang leaders and other people he'd found out far too much about. Who from  _that_ list would want him out of the way? 

The yakuza didn't make sense - he was respected and valued as an informant by far more groups than he was hated. Same with gang leaders, and gangs in general - he was far, far too desirable for anyone to risk abducting him. People would notice very quickly.

That only left those he knew too much about. People who were willing to stab and kill to keep their secrets safe. He'd been on the receiving end of one such incident, and despite the fun he'd had with Kishitani, the hospital visit was not something he wanted to repeat.  These people had literal monsters at their fingertips. He'd heard rumours of Saika wielders and inhuman bloodlines, though when he'd asked Tsukumoya about these, he'd received aggravatingly cryptic answers. 

Orihara Izaya was forced to wait for something to happen to him, and he despised the sensation it brought.


End file.
